Probably Love
by Anne Oying
Summary: Lucy's delusions about her and Nelson's "relationship". Very short li'l procastination piece.


**Yay! Boardwalk Empire's back! I was most interested in the development in Lucy and Nelson's "relationship" and so decided to write something short and crappy about it. Most of it's just theories and iguesswork on my part, so don't start yelling at me for getting any facts wrong, it's only been the first episode.**

**Will probably revise sometime in the future when I can be arsed. Until then... enjoy :)**

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><p>This is it.<p>

Lucy smiled and closed her eyes, her lips itched at the corners, eager to stretch wider and wider until the corners of her mouth brushed her hairline.

This was love.

Unlike that thing with Nucky – that was just practise, a warm up, the opening act. This was the real deal.

Sure, Nucky had taken her out, handed her Atlantic City on a silver platter, shown her the world – whilst Nelson… didn't… in fact, she'd yet to crack open a window without him screaming admonitions at her and yanking the curtains closed. But, Lucy told herself, he only does it because he's jealous. She _is _very desirable, after all - most men would sell their grandmother for a night with her. He just doesn't want to share. Besides, Nucky only took her out to show her off. She was his trophy – he'd plucked her from the stage of the most elite company in Jersey, not unlike a ripe piece of fruit, and transformed her from some faceless slut into a real lady. One who wore furs and pearls and turned her nose up at anything without a French label slapped on it. But when a tastier fruit grew on a lower, more accessible branch, well. _Have a nice life Lucy, don't let the door hit you on the way out._

But Nelson isn't like that, her heart whispered. He's upstanding. He's got morals. He'd got her pregnant.

He'd picked her up from the floor, brushed off the little flecks of dirt and given her a home. She really didn't need to see the outside of it. She'd seen it before. Fresh air and sunshine is overrated, anyway. As is affection from your beloved.

So what if he still paid her for her services? Nucky had basically done the same thing. His currency was booze, outings and fine clothes. Nelson's was cash. She needed cash more, anyway. Even if she never took a step outside, she could still fan herself with it if she got too hot.

She turned around to face the window and sighed. Wouldn't he be so surprised to see her when he came home? All snug as a bug in his bed instead of her own. She had chosen nightclothes that suited the colour of the bedspread, to show that she belonged there. To make him realise that she was perfect for him. _Look Nelson! We match! _She'd cry and point to the covers. Then he'd laugh and have to agree.

It was actually quite funny that he was playing hard to get. It was more fun. Every sneer he sent her way, every stony glare at her growing bump, every curt order – it was all just part of some hilarious inside joke between the two. _Good one, honey! That brush off really demolished my self-esteem! I'll get you next time!_

She'd never had banter with Nucky.

Unless you counted him making some political/social/whatever remark and her tittering sycophantically at him – which Lucy didn't. She wasn't delusional anymore, now that she'd found someone who truly loved her.

Yeah, he had a wife… and…?

Who doesn't?

This wasn't Lucy's first time as a mistress. Besides, Nelson was sure to leave her. He was probably dumping her ass right now, telling her that he was in love with someone else. Someone younger, prettier, classier. Someone fertile, unlike that frigid waif who dared call herself Mrs. Van Alden. Pur-lease.

Lucy knew all about her.

Nelson had told her. That first night, when their child was conceived. He was blitzed out his skull and secreting random information.

Did his wife know that he once had a dog called Fluffy? Lucy did.

Did his wife know that he used to graffiti on the bibles at Sunday school? Lucy did.

Did his wife know what kinds of things he thought about her, the kind of things he'd like to say to her, the kind of things he'd spilled out to Lucy? Guess who does know!

_Because everyone knows_, thought Lucy, stroking her bump and drifting off to sleep, _that the foetus is mightier than the wedding ring. _


End file.
